Out of Sight, Out of Mind (Season 4, Episode 5)
by bionic4ever
Summary: The terrorist group (now dubbed Cobra) has Jaime and Steve firmly in its sights. Can they keep each other safe? And Russ's behavior turns disturbing; can the doctors figure out why?
1. Chapter 1

**Out of Sight...Out of Mind**- Season Four, Episode Five

Chapter One

_We're glad you're feeling better. We haven't forgotten you._

Oscar stared at the offending note, cursed softly to himself and then placed it in Jack's (evidence-gloved) hand. ''Let's go out to the van,'' he suggested to Hansen and the Security officer who'd given them the card. They would take the remote command center on a drive, out of Jaime's range of hearing.

''We checked out the delivery driver immediately, Sir,'' the officer said. ''Sixteen year old kid, first job. Clean background. He's legit. And we have a team headed over to question the florist.''

Hansen nodded. ''With Colonel Austin injured and Miss Sommers still...ah..._spooked _by what happened to them -''

''You can't blame her for that,'' Oscar pointed out gently.

''No, of course not. But we also can't count on her reactions in a crisis - so we'll need to send them both underground, for their own protection.''

''Absolutely,'' Oscar agreed. ''This group just proved they're larger than we thought they were, if they can keep such a close eye on Jaime without being detected - and still carry out their normal operations...whatever those may be. And they're _ruthless_. They need a power pack and it doesn't matter to them if they get it from a live subject...or a dead one.''

''Still, they could firebomb a safe house just as easily as they could hit Jaime's house,'' Hansen pointed out.

''Very true.'' Oscar thought for a moment, then keyed up the radio system to the frequency of OSI-Los Angeles. ''Russ? I need you to contact General Hammond at Edwards and patch him through to me immediately.''

''I'm on it, Oscar,'' Russ responded quickly.

''Let's get Steve in on this,'' Oscar told Hansen. ''He can help us figure out what - and how - to tell Jaime.'' They would just have to find a way to get him out of the house without alarming Jaime...but that didn't prove to be a problem. When the van turned the corner, they saw Steve standing at the curb. Oscar threw open the rear door. ''Get in, Pal,'' he instructed. ''Where's Jaime?'' he asked when the van had pulled away again. ''And what are you doing outside?''

''She thought she heard you swearing out on the porch,'' Steve explained, ''and I tried to convince her it was just your voice over Security's datacoms. But she tunes those out - she has to, or there'd be a constant buzzing in her head from all of their back and forth transmissions. So I told her I'd check it out. She's in the kitchen, happily cooking away - said she missed it while she was in the hospital. Stirring two pots and dragging out baking supplies when I left. Oscar..._what_ is going on?'' Hansen held out the note (now encased in a clear plastic evidence bag) for Steve to read. ''Jaime _can't _see this!'' Steve proclaimed. ''I mean, she knows they're still out there - and she knows we're both targets - but this...it's just too much. What do you need me to do?''

''I'm sending you both underground,'' Oscar explained. ''_Really _underground. It'll be tough on both of you, but you'll be absolutely safe - from anything they might be thinking of throwing at you next. Once you're there, I'll need you to help Jaime deal with the situation calmly, for as long as it takes. She could start feeling claustrophobic pretty quickly.''

_Underground...absolutely safe...__**claustrophobic**_...''You're sending us to Edwards,'' Steve deduced.

''Mark Russell is putting a call through for me right now,'' Oscar confirmed...and then he frowned. The connection should've been patched through almost immediately. He picked up the radio mic. ''Russ, what's the word on General Hammond?''

''Tried to reach him, Oscar. I couldn't get through.''

Oscar's frown lines deepened to crevices. It was _not_ like his young (but highly capable) right-hand man to drop the ball like this. Normally, if he couldn't get through, Russ would've had every line in the building blazing until a connection _was_ made...usually within mere minutes. Maybe he hadn't been as ready to return to the job yet as everyone had thought. But there wasn't time to address that now. Oscar made a mental note to speak with Mark Conrad about Russ when time (and the situation) permitted. For now, there was a more urgent issue demanding his full attention.

''Russ,'' Oscar instructed (trying his best to be patient with his injured subordinate), ''I need Hammond at Edwards _**now**_! Light heaven and Earth on fire if you have to, but get me Hammond on this line immediately! No; sooner than that!'' The van had returned to the curb in front of Jaime's house, and Oscar turned to Steve. ''While I'm taking care of this, Pal, I need you to find a way to explain it to Jaime so she'll understand without any more trauma than is absolutely necessary.''

Steve caught the look exchanged by the front door's Security officers but he headed straight inside...and found Jaime on the living room sofa - with tears streaming down her face. ''I...I just went out on the porch,'' she sniffled, ''only...wanted to see what was going on, since you didn't come right back. And...and they practically _marched_ me back inside! Then...when I _dared_ to look out the window - _my own window!_- they came back in and snarled at me! Steve...you told me in the hospital, right after Chris almost had me killed, that you would never lie to me. So...what's going on?''

Steve sank down next to Jaime on the sofa and enveloped her with his one good arm. He couldn't lie to her...but he certainly couldn't tell her about the note either. Her nightmares of the horrors inflicted on her by the terror group were finally beginning to recede, allowing her to smile, laugh and (occasionally) enjoy life again. Steve didn't have the heart to thrust her straight back into that hellish place in her mind all over again...but they were being sent away and she deserved a truthful explanation.

"Sweetheart, there's been another threat..." he began, holding her close in a gentle embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

''We're staying _here?_'' Jaime remarked softly. ''I knew we weren't headed for the Hilton, but...''

The operation to get them there safely without being followed by anyone who might be watching (and the terrorists had proven they _were_watching) had gone off without a hitch. It would've been impossible to tell which one of the cars that left Jaime's garage and the alley behind her house actually carried Steve and Jaime. They were in a bunker system below Edwards Air Force Base. Since it was underground and heavily reinforced, they were protected from any form of potential attack...but they were also confined to a windowless set of small rooms. The two tiny bedrooms, kitchenette and conference room (re-purposed now as a living room) had been made as comfortable as possible for their two new occupants...but the accommodations were still Spartan at best.

''It's not so bad,'' Steve soothed, leading her to a love seat (that had been hastily procured from someone's quarters above-ground) and sitting down beside her. They'd also managed to fit a rocker, a small easy chair and a table into the cramped 'living room' space, but Jaime needed a shoulder to lean on and Steve much preferred holding her to sitting alone. ''You're safe here - probably the safest place on the West Coast - and you have me to keep you company.''

Jaime tilted her face up...and kissed him. ''If I have to be stuck here, there's no better company than a handsome Colonel.''

* * *

After seeing Jaime and Steve safely to Edwards, Oscar returned to OSI-Los Angeles...and eyed his assistant closely. Russ seemed fine now, as though he'd shaken off whatever bug of inefficiency had plagued him earlier. He was on three phone lines at once, giving orders to a subordinate and signing papers presented to him by a secretary - all simultaneously and without missing a beat. Oscar breathed a sigh of relief and headed down the hall to his own office to begin wading through the day's briefing sheets.

The investigation into the florist (and each of his employees) had produced no usable results. Everyone was 'clean' and the flowers that had been delivered to Jaime's house had been paid for with cash. The purchase itself was untraceable. The cashier on duty had been able to give a partial description...but that, too, was practically unusable. _Average height and build, dark hair, brown eyes._

Mark Russell appeared in Oscar's doorway. ''I saw you look in; was there something you needed?'' he asked.

''How does it feel to be back at your desk?'' Oscar hedged.

''Like I've never been away.'' He gave his boss and mentor a quick smile and was off again, a secretary following close on his heels with more paperwork. A few minutes later, he was back. ''I saw you look in,'' he said. ''Was there something you needed?''

* * *

''Quite an eventful day for you,'' Mark Conrad noted to Jaime. Steve had temporarily made himself scarce by grabbing a book and retiring to his room. ''First a homecoming and then...this.''

''I could do with a little less _excitement _in my days.''

''How are you coping, so far?'' He had been briefed by Oscar about the flower delivery arriving within minutes of Jaime's homecoming - and about the note attached. He'd wholeheartedly agreed with Oscar and Steve, that Jaime should _not _be told. She was finally gaining some sense of emotional safety and stability again...but that stability was fragile and its strength still uncertain. He wondered to himself how much simply being here (and the reason she had to be here) would set her back - especially as the days wore on in a hidden underground bunker.

''I'm...okay...I guess...''

''And I'm not even almost convinced. What's troubling you the most?'' the doctor probed.

''Things must be a lot more serious than they're letting on, for them to bring us _here_. Yes, I know there was a threat...but there's _been_ a threat - for over a month! Why now? Why cart us off to an underground prison? Because this _is_a prison, you know.''

''I know.'' There was a second hallway, branching off from the one that led to these quarters, that contained several small offices and a group of holding cells. It was hardly an actual prison, but not a point the psychiatrist would raise with his patient. Besides, to her - with its windowless rooms (and the cells just a few yards away, albeit empty at the moment) - Conrad was sure it probably felt like exactly that: a _prison_. ''It's probably the safest place for you both to be right now,'' he pointed out.

''Yeah; I've heard that already. More than once. But we should be..._out there_, helping track these freaks down! Not holed up here in hiding...not like this!''

''Steve's injured. You're...injured,'' he explained. ''Just how would you even begin to fight them off, if it came to that?'' He knew that the trauma to Jaime's psyche could potentially be just as crippling in a crisis as Steve's fractured arm - and probably even more so.

''We...we'd...manage,'' Jaime answered weakly. ''We fought them off in the attic, didn't we?''

''That was a life or death situation; you were functioning on sheer adrenaline.''

''Exactly. And we could do it again...if it came to that...''

''Which it _would _- likely within 24 hours of the two of you entering that investigation,'' Conrad said gently. He didn't want to add to her distress, but she had to look at this realistically! ''And the possibility also exists that you'd never even get the chance to stand and fight. One shot from a high-powered rifle...''

''I...hadn't thought of that,'' Jaime admitted.

''And you haven't been cleared to work yet,'' he reminded her. Even if Michael and Rudy were both ready to sign the forms - which they weren't; not quite - Oscar was requiring signatures from _all three_ of Jaime's doctors. And just like her medical doctors, Mark Conrad was not going to sign those forms until he was absolutely _sure_.

''Still, what if they don't catch these people right away...especially without our help?'' Jaime asked plaintively. ''How long can they keep us down here..._forever?_''


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

''I know you're gonna talk about me!'' Jaime called out, as Steve and Doctor Conrad headed down the hallway/tunnel that led toward the holding cells.

Of course, she was right. With their concrete-and-lead-enforced walls, the cells made an ideal conversation spot for two men who didn't wish to be overheard by a bionic ear. ''How's she doing - _really _- Doc?'' Steve wondered.

''You know Jaime far better than I do; why don't you tell me?''

''She's...almost too stoic,'' Steve admitted. ''So far, the only thing that's visibly upset her today - that's brought her feelings to the surface - was when Security snapped at her back at the house. _That_ had her in tears. But she took the news that there was a new threat and that we'd be coming here...on a totally even keel.''

''And you don't think that's because she's finding her emotional footing again...becoming more stable?''

''No. Yes. I...don't know. Something just feels 'off'. Maybe she's had more than enough time to adjust to the fact that we're the target of terrorists and she really is 'processing it normally', as you would put it. I just...don't know.''

''There's something else troubling you about this,'' Conrad stated. (It wasn't a question.)

''In the car, on the way over here, Jaime kept saying how we shouldn't be running from them...that we needed to stand our ground - and even help draw them out and catch them!''

''How do you feel about that?''

''I know this sort of group. They'll hone in on any weakness - and slaughter you with it. For me...they'd come at me from my left side and I'd be in trouble. With Jaime...they'd play on the fear and insecurity that _they_ created in her...and they'd _have_ her, just like that,'' Steve concluded.

''Sounds like she's got the drive of a damn good operative,'' Conrad noted, ''but without the knowledge and experience you have, to tell her when to back off.''

''Exactly.''

''Steve, be aware that any fears and insecurities she might be feeling will only be amplified in this environment. She has nowhere to go - nothing to counter the sensation of being trapped and helpless.''

''She has me.''

''What _about_ you; how are _you _doing with all of this?''

''I'm fine, Doc.''

''Now, _that's _a pretty standard 'stoic' response,'' Conrad noted.

''Ya got me. I suppose I'm...angry. Yeah; 'angry' covers it.''

''Because...?'' the doctor prompted.

''Isn't that obvious? Jaime was nearly destroyed and now she has to struggle her way back, one nightmare and one day terror at a time!''

''Day terror?'' This was news to him. ''Is she having flashbacks? Do Rudy and Michael know this?''

''I've only started noticing it myself today, since she's been out of the hospital. Nothing concrete; just a look in her eyes that doesn't match what's happening around her...like she's not entirely _here_. I saw it back at the house, right when we got there, and again in the car. And since we've been here...a couple more times.''

''Keep a close eye on that for me, please. And if it persists, I want you to phone Michael or Rudy. Or radio them from these cells, if you'd rather. It could be a flashback...or she may be blanking out - a delayed effect from her head injury. And that could have serious implications, particularly in a patient with Jaime's history of blood clots and a full cerebral hemorrhage. Head injuries can be tricky, unpredictable things to deal with, even under the best of circumstances.''

* * *

Oscar had nearly paced a groove in his office carpet, deciding what to do. Finally, he pressed a button on his phone. ''Russ, I need you to arrange to have Fenylman from the FBI and General Hammond join us for our strategy meeting tonight.''

''I'm on it, Oscar.''

Oscar poured another cup of coffee and tried to concentrate on clearing at least some of the files and briefings from his desk before the meeting was due to start in an hour. When he finally made his way down to the conference room, only Hansen, Rudy and Russ were waiting for him there. ''Where are Fenylman and the General?'' he demanded, as gently as possible.

Russ was glancing around the room at the other men's faces. ''Did someone call them?'' he asked.

* * *

''I'll be alright, Steve - really,'' Jaime insisted, just before midnight. ''I'm not in the hospital anymore and you need some good, solid rest of your own, to help your body heal. You don't need to sit up with me while I sleep.''

''I just want to be there, in case you need me.''

''I _need_ you...to _sleep_! Please? I'll take this pill Rudy sent over and be out like a light.''

''I'll leave my door open,'' Steve relented. ''If you need anything at all, even if it's just to talk...''

''I promise.'' She leaned up to kiss him and gave him a reassuring smile. After stopping in the kitchenette for a glass of water and then taking her pill (like an obedient 'patient'), Jaime headed off to bed...reading only a few pages of her book before she was, indeed, out like a light. Almost immediately, she began to dream...

_Jaime cowered helplessly in a corner, her leg looking like swiss cheese from the holes __**he**__ had drilled in it. She couldn't escape any longer...couldn't get up to fight him off or even run away. __**He**__ tossed Steve's limp and broken body at her feet. ''__**He's dead!**__'' the man thundered. ''__**He has YOU to thank for it...and now it's your turn!**__'' Instead of a power drill, her captor now brandished a chain saw..._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Steve, of course, wasn't asleep. He hadn't even left the 'living room' area (that directly adjoined the two sleeping quarters) yet, when he heard Jaime begin thrashing around in her bed. When he heard her cry out - an awful, plaintive cry like that of a frightened kitten - he was instantly on his feet and flew to her side.

Jaime was already awake, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, with her breath coming in rapid, tortured gasps. Steve perched on the edge of the narrow bed and scooped her up to cradle her against his chest. ''It was only a dream,'' he whispered. ''You're safe; I'm here.'' She shook so alarmingly that he debated giving her one of the shots Michael had entrusted to him - that would 'put her out' until her doctors could get there to see her - but he decided to give her a few minutes to re-orient herself first. Maybe they could avoid the shot. ''You're safe,'' he repeated, holding her close. Soon, she began to relax against him.

''This was the worst one yet,'' Jaime told him, stifling a tiny sob.

''It's okay to cry,'' he said gently. ''Might even help.''

Jaime shook her head, refusing to give in to her tears. They stayed that way for a long time, wordlessly melded together in a gesture of comfort. When Jaime finally raised her head from his chest to look at him, Steve still saw fear in her eyes but he saw something else too: a fierce _determination_. ''Steve, they've taken so much from us!'' she proclaimed. ''We...we've been damaged in ways that even Mark Conrad has barely scratched the surface of. But by being down here, locked away, we're letting them take the most important thing of all - our _freedom_!''

''Sweetheart, we still have what's _really_ most important - our _lives_...and each other.''

* * *

''I still don't see why I need another physical when I just saw you a week ago,'' Russ protested. ''I have _work _to do - a terror group to help track down, for God's sake!''

''Which is exactly why we need to make sure you're in top working condition,'' Michael countered smoothly. ''Any problems since you've been back at your desk full-time? Headaches, dizziness, weakness or -''

''From breaking my nose?'' Russ scoffed.

''All of those lumps and bruises say that it wasn't just your nose that was injured.''

''And you checked everything thoroughly last week; all parts in good working order. Remember?''

''And today we'll be checking thoroughly _again_,'' Michael informed him, ''because you know how we 'doctor-types' are: always ordering unnecessary tests and hovering over our patients just for the sheer joy of annoying them.''

* * *

Following Russ's alarming performance at the conference the previous day, Oscar had pulled Rudy aside after the meeting, filled him in on what had been happening and asked for his opinion. Rudy frowned. ''That's not like Russ at all. Could be a latent effect of a head injury. I'd like to see a brain scan - and a full neurological work-up. I could do it myself, if you'd like - but since this is one of Michael's specialties -''

''Whatever you think is best, Rudy.''

Now that the tests were completed and Russ (in spite of being given the whole day off) had returned to his desk, Oscar waited tensely in Michael's office for the results to come in. ''So...what did you find?'' he asked, the very second the young doctor joined him.

''Absolutely nothing. No physical abnormalities of any kind.''

''Are you _sure_?'' Oscar queried. Michael raised one eyebrow in a manner that might have been deemed cocky if he hadn't earned the distinction of being one of the best in his field. ''Of course you're sure,'' Oscar added. ''What would you suggest, then? Because this is getting worse, rather than better.''

''Lighten his load a bit,'' Michael suggested. ''See which of his duties might be delegated to someone else for the time being. It could be that his body is readjusting to the demands of his job following a traumatic injury. I'll follow up with him in about a week but in the meantime I need you to call me if his symptoms grow worse or if he develops new ones. And I'll arrange another consult with Mark Conrad, just to be on the safe side.''

* * *

''How was your first night here?'' Doctor Conrad inquired. ''Were you able to get some sleep?''

Jaime nestled a little closer to Steve on the love seat, glad she'd asked him to sit in on the conversation. Haltingly at first - and then with words that poured out of her in vivid detail - she told Conrad about her dream. ''And I can't let them take any more from us than they already have,'' she concluded. ''I need you to sign off and clear me so I can get back out there and make this right!''

Steve's eyes met the doctor's with a worried glance. _Talk some sense into her, Doc,_ he pleaded wordlessly, _because I sure couldn't._

''Alright, let's say I was willing to do that,'' Conrad began. ''You'd be willing to leave Steve down here all alone, nursing a fractured arm without even the pleasure of your company?''

''Well...no. But -''

''Then you'd be suggesting he 'return to the trenches' with you, having only one arm to work with?''

''I guess you've got me there,'' Jaime admitted. ''Maybe I'm not as ready for the field again as I thought I was...but I'd like to be.''

''I'd say that's an excellent start.''

* * *

At that evening's strategy meeting, Hansen's face was grim. ''My sources are reporting things have fallen silent _again_. No buzz or movement of any kind.''

''That could be a positive sign,'' Russ suggested. ''They realize that Jaime and Steve are out of their reach - and thus, the power pack technology is, as well.''

''No,'' Oscar countered. ''They wouldn't give up this easily. Always remember that a cobra is at its quietest when it's preparing to strike.''


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

''So far, she's doing very well,'' Mark Conrad told the rest of Jaime's medical team (and Oscar). He'd been the only doctor who'd been able to see her since her arrival at Edwards. Unless there was some sort of problem, Michael would be waiting at least another 24 hours, to hopefully attract a little less attention, if 'The Cobra' was watching him too. ''Another nightmare last night - she said it was the worst one yet - but she awakened from it on her own and seems willing and able to discuss it. A much healthier response than even a few days ago.''

''That's good news,'' Rudy agreed.

''The rest...is not so wonderful,'' Conrad continued. ''Jaime is continuing to insist that she should be out in the field, helping to apprehend the people who did this to her.''

''Out of the question,'' Oscar muttered.

Conrad nodded. ''I managed to quiet that topic, at least for now - but it's bound to become a recurring theme, the longer they end up having to stay down there. In fact, with so little else to occupy her time and attention, it's very likely that she'll develop a sort of tunnel vision on the subject and become unable to focus on anything else.''

''Suggestions?'' Oscar asked.

''Let's give her something else to focus on...allow Steve to train her some more - as much as he can do verbally, anyhow. Casually. Gives her a goal to look toward, other than just seeking vengeance.''

* * *

When a Base officer had phoned down to the bunker to find out what Jaime and Steve might be needing (to make their stay at ''The Edwards Hilton'' at least a little more comfortable), one thing ranked high on both of their lists...and they were making full use of it now.

''Illinois Avenue for Reading?'' Steve proposed.

Jaime laughed. ''Are you crazy, Colonel? Maybe Illinois, Baltic and Vermont...''

''That's all my properties, so far!''

''Exactly. And _this _is my railroad!''

This time, it took Jaime less than half an hour to beat him...breaking the old record she'd set months ago by more than ten minutes. ''Two out of three?'' Steve suggested.

''Glutton for punishment, are you?''

''Bring it on,'' he challenged. As they reset the board for another game though, Steve noticed that (once again) Jaime's eyes seemed far away, even as she chattered happily. ''What's on your mind?'' he asked.

''Still wondering why you'd subject yourself to another round,'' Jaime giggled.

Steve stopped her hand from continuing to dole out the money and then he pushed the board gently to the other side of the table. ''We can always play again later,'' he told her. ''Right now, I think we need to talk.''

''Should I be worried? 'Cause you're kind of scaring me...'' Jaime hedged.

''I'm harmless; I promise.'' Steve pulled her back against the cushions of the love seat, hoping she'd feel at least a little more relaxed. ''You weren't thinking about Monopoly, were you?'' he queried carefully.

''I kicked your butt! What do you mean I _wasn't thinking about it_?''

''No, Sweetheart - I mean just now...while we were setting up again. It was like you were a million miles away.''

Jaime shrugged. ''Probably just tired.''

''Jaime...you can't fool an Intelligence man. At least, not a good one. Please talk to me? Are you having pain that you didn't tell the doctors about?''

''No, nothing like that. I guess...I just don't like having to be here. That's all,'' Jaime concluded.

_I'd believe that_, Steve thought to himself, _except you were having these episodes before we got here...even while we were still back at the house! _He thought maybe she'd talk more freely over another game of Monopoly, as it had worked that way when she was in the hospital. ''Feel like beating me again, after all?''

Jaime handed him the dice. The game itself provided Steve with no further answers - and even more worry. Jaime's tone was joyful and her touch was light as she bounced the little top hat around the board but her eyes had a dark, haunted quality. ''I'm sorry,'' she chuckled when she'd beat him again (as usual). Then Steve saw her chin begin to quiver. ''Steve...I - I'm so...sorry...!'' she cried...just before bolting out into the hallway, toward the tunnel.

Steve's datacom was never out of his reach and he keyed it up as he began to run. ''Get Conrad down here _NOW!_'' he called. He found Jaime easily. Blinded by the tears she couldn't force back any longer, she'd become confused in the hallways and instead of heading into the tunnel (and potentially out of the bunker), she'd ended up at the far corner of the opposite hallway, by the holding cells. Her back was to Steve as he approached, her arms wrapped around herself in a failed attempt at comfort.

''Jaime...?'' he whispered, not wanting to startle her. She didn't turn around. Now that he wasn't sneaking up on her, Steve wrapped a loving arm around Jaime's waist and led her back to their quarters. He fluffed her pillow, helped her into her bed and pulled the quilt up to her shoulders before finally speaking again. ''Yeah...not about Monopoly...or even being 'just tired'...is it?''

''No...'' Jaime acknowledged.

''So can we talk about it now? Please?''

''I guess...we have to.''


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

''I guess we have to talk about it,'' Jaime repeated. ''But...I'm not sure if I can...''

''Sweetheart, look at me,'' Steve told her. Jaime's face was turned toward him, but her eyes were growing 'far away' again. He couldn't let that happen! ''_Really _look at me,'' he requested, ''right into my eyes. That's better.'' He smiled reassuringly at her. ''Do you trust me?''

''Y-yes...of course I do!''

''Then you need to talk to me _now_. Don't let this destroy you!'' He waited patiently while Jaime struggled to find the words.

After several minutes, Jaime spoke. ''I...can't.''

''You _can_ - and you _have to!_'' Steve had heard the door to the tunnel swing open - and prayed Conrad would stay back, out of Jaime's sight, until she finally opened up...and that Jaime wouldn't notice. Jaime was too distracted with her own struggle to notice anything else and Conrad wisely kept his distance, listening but not interfering with what might be about to happen - but ready to stop it if things went too far.

Still, Jaime said nothing. ''How 'bout if I start?'' Steve suggested. ''Steve, I'm really sorry because...''

''Noooo...''

''_Steve, I'm really sorry because..._'' Steve said again, a little more forcefully (but not unkindly).

''Okay! Alright! You...you need to stop being so nice to me, 'cause you have every reason to hate me!'' Jaime cried.

''I _love _you!'' Steve reminded her.

''No! You can't...you can't love me because this...all of this - your arm, the mission going bad, us getting sent here - it's all MY fault! Yeah, we talked about this and you took the blame and we talked about teamwork but you were wrong!''

''Jaime -''

But the floodgates had truly opened now...and everything was pouring out, all at once. Jaime sat bolt-upright in the bed. ''_Wrong_, Steve! Yes, we got outta that attic _together_...but we never should've been there in the first place! _We_ were there because _**I **_insisted on helping out, even though you tried to tell me I wasn't ready! And then after we hit the tree and you and Russ got taken away, Rudy and Oscar told me to stay where I was, so they could bring me back! Instead, I had to try and play the 'heroine' card, thinking I could save the whole damn world...or at least the two of you...and...I couldn't. If I had just listened to Oscar...if I'd done what he told me...''

Jaime collapsed back onto her pillow, sobbing brokenly...and Doctor Conrad knocked tactfully on the (open) door. ''I stopped by to check on you once more before you settled in for the night. Jaime, I overheard most of what you said - and now I can _really _help you.''

Steve nodded his head in thanks...but also had a counter-suggestion. ''Okay if I take a run at this one first, Doc?'' he requested. Without waiting for an answer, he took Jaime's hand. She turned her head to face the opposite wall, unable to look at him. ''Sweetheart, if you _had _listened to Oscar and Rudy, would you like to hear what would've happened? Because I can tell you.''

''What?'' Jaime asked...but still didn't turn to face him.

''I'd rather tell _you_ - and not the back of your head. Thank you,'' he added, once she'd complied and was again looking at him. ''If you'd stayed where you were and let the search teams find you, you'd have been safe. _Temporarily._ But they would've killed me because there was no way in hell I'd have told them where to find you. Probably, they'd have killed Russ too...would've seen him as disposable. And then, since they didn't know about my bionics - and they wanted that power pack - they'd _still _have come after you. So you see, we wouldn't have had a chance except exactly the way it happened. Are you hearing me?''

Jaime nodded. ''Yes...but -''

''If you're hearing it, then you need to be understanding and _believing _it, because that promise I made to never lie to you still holds true. It always will.''

''But we wouldn't have been in that attic at all, if I hadn't insisted on helping to draw them out...'' Jaime sniffled. ''So it's _still _my fault.''

''You wanted to help because you knew you had the strength - and I'm not just talking physical, bionic strength, either - and great instinct to back it up. You proved that instinct when you let them catch you. You could've fought them off...and gotten shot. Or let's say you had fought them and won - and Security took them away. Russ and I were already hurt...and there'd have been no way to find us. You went with your instinct...and you were right! Wanting - _needing_ - to help...going against the grain, against what it seems any 'normal' person would do...trusting your instinct even when you might have to defy an order...you know what all of that means, don't you? It means you have the heart of an operative. Not _had_, either. _Have._ Someday, when the time is right you'll be back at it again...if _you _decide it's what you want.''

Jaime sat up and hugged Steve carefully (still mindful of his injured ribs). ''Thank you...for everything...and I love you, too,'' she whispered.

''And with that, folks, I'll say goodnight,'' Mark Conrad told them from the doorway. ''Great work, Doctor Austin.''

Jaime and Steve had forgotten he was even there...but were both very glad that he had been. And so was he.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

While Steve and Jaime were lingering over a cup of coffee and beginning their third day down in the bunker, the morning strategy meeting was already in full swing at OSI-Los Angeles. The list of attendees had expanded to eight, with the addition of Fenylman (from the FBI), Helstrom (CIA) and General Hammond. Hansen had just finished saying the same thing he'd unfortunately had to report in every meeting thus far (that they had no new leads and no suspects) when Security knocked on the door.

''A courier just delivered this from your office, Sir,'' the guard said, handing a sealed file to Helstrom. ''We've verified that it did, indeed, come from your office.'' The guard nodded respectfully to the room's occupants and then left as Helstrom opened the envelope and began to reading the briefing it contained.

Every eye in the room was on him as Helstrom's face paled visibly. He read the paper a second time, then set it down. ''Gentlemen, we have big trouble,'' he began. ''One of our sources in the Soviet Union reports that weapons stockpiled there are being moved to the States at an alarming pace. This may - or may not - be the work of Cobra.'' (Oscar had likened the terror group to a cobra waiting to strike and since they hadn't exactly come forward with a name of their own, the moniker had stuck.)

''So they're Soviet, then,'' Russ stated.

''It doesn't appear that way,'' Helstrom continued. ''We don't have any names or even a drop-off or storage site, but the people sending _and _the people receiving these munitions...they're all Americans.''

''They could be planning another takeover of the hospital, then,'' Russ theorized.

''Possible,'' Hansen allowed, ''but not likely. They could do that easily enough, any time they choose, with what they already have. This sounds more like they're gearing up for war.''

''Or an attack on a military base,'' Oscar added grimly.

* * *

''By the way,'' Jaime said in a cheerful voice, ''I don't buy for one minute that Doctor Conrad just happened to drop by for a visit last night.''

''Have I told you this morning how beautiful you are?'' Steve countered, chuckling nervously.

''I'm glad he was here; thank you.''

''In that case, guilty as charged. And have I told you this morning how much I love you?''

Jaime smiled. ''When you first got up and I was making the coffee...over breakfast and while we washed the dishes. And I love you too.''

''Game of Monopoly?'' Steve suggested. ''Because I know this is the day I'm finally going to beat you.''

* * *

When the conference adjourned and the other six men returned to their respective duties for the day, Oscar stayed behind with Russ, to touch bases a little more closely. ''Arrange transfer of all non-critical patients out of National,'' Oscar instructed. ''Then I need you to brief the teams and have them start beating the bushes for any signs of a munitions stockpile or incoming shipments.''

Russ nodded. ''Consider it done.'' He got up to leave, froze in the doorway for a moment then turned around. ''Is there anything you'd like me to do?'' he asked.

* * *

Steve counted the spaces in his head, moved his token to Short Line and passed the dice to Jaime. ''You're up.''

''Not so fast, Austin! _My _railroad - of which I have 3 - and you can pay 100 bucks for the privilege of landing there.''

Steve smiled as he handed over the cash. ''It's good to see you so chipper this morning,'' he noted. Jaime's eyes were clear and she seemed fully 'present'. ''No nightmares last night?''

''Nope,'' Jaime told him, as she landed on St Charles Place. ''Another Monopoly for me - and I'm buying hotels. Guess where you'll be landing in a couple more turns?''

''Sad thing is, you're probably right.''

''I did have some bad dreams, but nothing like...before. And that's 250 dollars please. Thank you.'' She tucked more of Steve's cash into her bank pile and rolled the dice as she kept talking. ''Steve...if we're still down here when your arm heals and I'm...better...do you think Oscar will let us work on finding those freaks?''

''I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.''

''I mean...it sounds like they can't finish whatever it is they're planning to do without at least one of our power packs, so we're still the ideal bait to try and -''

''No, Jaime; at least...not now. And even when we're both...healed, Oscar might feel it's best to keep us here until everything is resolved,'' Steve told her.

''Well, you don't think they're just gonna pack up their toys and go home, like we're out of sight, out of mind, do you? If the power packs are their missing piece and we're their only source for getting one, I don't see how anything's gonna be resolved until we draw them back out from under their rock.'' Jaime's eyes grew wide as a sudden realization socked her in the gut. ''Oh God...Steve...we're _not _their only source! What if they go after Rudy? They could force him to make them another one!''

''He's being well-protected,'' Steve assured her. ''Oscar and Hansen have all the i's dotted and the t's crossed. Oh - and 14 dollars, please. Why is it when I land on your squares I'm giving you boat loads of money - and from you, I get...14 lousy dollars?''

''Because I'm the Monopoly Queen of the World.''

''I know you're queen of my world.'' Steve rolled the dice and cursed softly. Exactly as Jaime had predicted, it was St Charles Place (with a hotel) for him.

''Tell ya what, Colonel...I'll let you slide - just this once - for a kiss.''

The union of their lips was soft, slow and tantalizing. When they broke away to catch their breath, Jaime and Steve shared a smile at the hope and promise their kiss had contained.

* * *

Less than an hour away, a man who called himself Nemesis was smiling too...for a very different reason.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nemesis opened the last of the crates, inspected the contents himself and clapped his hands with maniacal glee. ''We have everything we need now,'' he crowed to the flunkies who surrounded him. ''Well...almost everything. Which is why we need to double up our efforts to locate the power source! Our prototype may be working perfectly, but it's far too bulky for what we _will_ accomplish! Once we're able to power the miniature, portable device, there'll be no stopping us! Can't you just picture it? I can _taste_ the power that I'll...that _we'll _have then! I want locations for our two friends by the end of the day - and there's a bonus for anyone who can not only find them, but bring them to me. And yes - directly to me. Alive. I have very special plans for them!''

* * *

''I really don't understand why you're here,'' Russ told Doctor Conrad. ''Oscar told me I blanked out on him after the meeting...but it was only for a few seconds. I haven't been sleeping well, so probably too much coffee and I got a little dizzy; that's all.''

''Why aren't you sleeping?'' Conrad probed. ''Nightmares?''

''No. A few bad dreams here and there, but they aren't keeping me awake. Mostly I haven't been sleeping because there are cold-blooded killers out there who are targeting my friends and so far we haven't made any headway in stopping them!''

''They targeted you, too,'' the doctor pointed out quietly.

''Not really. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time - not a target.''

''Do you think you're a target now?''

''No more so than Oscar, Jack Hansen or Rudy. And probably a lot less,'' Russ replied. ''It's a hazard of the job that we either learn to deal with...or we leave. And I'm still here.''

''What if we reduced your work load? Do you think you'd sleep more if you were carrying a little less weight on your shoulders?''

''No! Then I probably wouldn't sleep at all! Cobra needs to be found - and the head of the damn snake chopped off, metaphorically speaking! I can't just stay home sitting on my hands when there's work to be done!''

''And are you the only person on the planet who can do that work?'' Conrad asked.

''Of course not! But Oscar needs someone in this office who can already perform - someone who doesn't need to be taught or have their hand held! And I need to be here for him...and for my friends. You can't take that away from me over a momentary dizzy spell.''

''I _can_...but I won't - for now,'' Conrad stated. ''What I hope I can expect from you is a phone call if you have any more of these 'dizzy spells' or any trouble whatsoever. And I'll be checking in with you again tomorrow.''

* * *

Steve stepped out of the shower, dressed quickly and headed out to the living area, where Jaime had promised to have lunch waiting for him. The sandwiches and iced tea were there...but Jaime wasn't. He poked his head through her (open) bedroom door, saw her bathroom door was also open - and Jaime was nowhere to be found. ''Oh no...'' he groaned. ''Please tell me you didn't...'' At bionic speed, it took Steve only seconds to find her. She was all the way down at the far end of the tunnel with one foot on the stairs that ultimately led outside.

Jaime turned when she heard him coming. ''I wasn't actually gonna go,'' she protested when she saw his face. ''Steve, I swear it! I just wanted to be a little closer to the sunshine. I wasn't gonna open the door; it helps just to know there's still sunshine and fresh air a few yards away.''

* * *

Rudy sat at his desk with the information from the morning's meeting still ringing in his head. _Stockpiled munitions...American...out of the Soviet Union..._ Then he remembered what Steve had told him, about how their captors had known the word _bionic_- and everything fell into place. He nearly knocked the phone off the desk in his rush to call Oscar.

''Oscar, I think I know who we need to find - who the head of Cobra is! I don't just know who he is, either - I know _him_! Or I knew him, anyway!''

''What's going on, Rudy?''

''I'll head straight over there to explain. In the meantime, you might want to see what you can pull up on a man named Grant Kingsley. American professor, spent many years abroad - primarily the Soviet Union - and he's back here now, if I'm right.''

It took Rudy less than 10 minutes to reach Oscar's office. Oscar trusted Rudy's knowledge and instincts implicitly - and had not only gathered the requested Intel, but had also given Mark Conrad a photo to take to Steve and Jaime for possible identification. Rudy took a seat across the desk and they went over what Oscar had found...then Rudy (even more certain now) began his story.

* * *

''I have a photo I need to show you both today,'' Mark Conrad told them. ''I need to know if either of you recognize this man, if you've ever seen him before - and where.''

Jaime reached for the photo first and it fell almost immediately from her trembling hand. ''That's...him!'' she said in a fear-filled whisper. ''_That's the man with the drill!_''

* * *

Nemesis had reached a near-psychotic state of joy. Finally, he had the answer he sought! While they hadn't been able to retrieve either of his primary targets, his flunkies had retraced back to where each of the cars that had left the woman's house had gone, three days earlier. Five were dead ends: the storefronts, office buildings, and a restaurant...and they'd quickly and systematically ensured there were no 'extra' occupants squirreled away inside any of those. Which left only the sixth.

_**Edwards Air Force Base**_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

''I met Grant while I was studying in Austria,'' Rudy began. ''We were in the same post-graduate program; first year for him...and I was just finishing up. Different specialties and interests but we both spent a lot of time in the lab. There were half a dozen of us who stayed later than anyone else - and sometimes went out for a few drinks afterward, to unwind. We'd talk about our various projects and share the ideas and discoveries we were most excited about. Bionics wasn't even a fleshed-out concept for me back then, just an idea that popped into my head along the lines of _wouldn't it be something if __**this**__ were ever possible_. So that's where he heard the word. And we both know that the existence of miniaturized nuclear power packs leaked out years ago. So when they saw Jaime throw that bomb as far as she did...well, Grant is a brilliant man. A genius, really. It wouldn't have been hard for him to put the pieces together. Oscar, you should be aware that -''

A phone on Oscar's desk lit up and began buzzing urgently. It was the red phone, the number given only to a select few to use only in dire circumstances. ''Oscar Goldman speaking,'' he said, hitting the speaker button so Rudy could listen in.

''Oscar, it's Steve. That picture you sent over? We're looking at Jaime's 'drill man'.''

''Thanks, Pal. Take care of Jaime and I'll get back to you when I can.''

Rudy's face was grim as he heard his worst fear confirmed. ''I was already back here in the States when he got his Doctorate but I heard from another in our group that he'd stayed in Austria for a few years, as a professor at our Alma Mater...until he somehow developed the contacts to allow him passage into the Soviet Union. He'd always expressed a desire to study there - and set up a lab. His main interests when I knew him were chemistry...and munitions.''

''So you're thinking chemical warfare, Rudy?'' Oscar guessed.

''Possibly. But it could be even worse. In the same way that bionics was just an 'out there' thought that popped into my head, Grant's 'out there' idea...was _mind control._''

* * *

''That's a face I'd hoped I'd never see again,'' Jaime told Conrad, ''unless he was behind bars. And maybe not even then.''

Steve's datacom vibrated silently on his belt loop...and he knew it was Oscar with something he didn't want Jaime to hear. ''Why don't I get scarce for a bit...and let you two talk?'' he said, then headed down the double set of hallways into the furthest cell. ''Oscar, I'm here,'' he transmitted.

''Is Jaime with you?''

''No; she's back in our quarters, talking to Doctor Conrad. I'm in one of the cells. Go ahead...what's going on?''

''Mark Conrad is still there?''

''Yes,'' Steve answered.

''Listen to me very carefully. You need to decide in the next few minutes whether to keep him there with you or send him out. In half an hour, as soon as additional back-up teams arrive from the Army , the base will be placed on lock down/High Alert. No one in, no one out.'' Oscar had been gathering Intel at a frenetic pace since hearing what Rudy had to say, and each report was worse than the last. There was no concrete information, but the Intel 'buzz' was that something very big was about to happen. This time, it was Oscar's turn to act on his instinct.

Steve knew too well what that meant. ''High Alert? We're under attack?''

''Not yet, but it's probable - and within the next few hours. Could be anything from fire bombs or missiles...to chemical weapons. You'll be safe down there, but...well...Rudy needs to talk to you,'' Oscar concluded.

''Steve?'' Rudy's voice came over the datacom. ''Do you still have the...injections that Michael gave you for Jaime?''

''Of course; haven't needed to use them,'' Steve answered.

''I want you to use one now. As soon as you can manage it.''

''You want me to _put her out_?''

''You _have_ to,'' Rudy confirmed. ''It could get loud out there...and ugly. Jaime's ear is likely to pick up some of the sounds even through lead and concrete - and while she might not know what they are or how to interpret them, she'll know _something_is going on. And one of two things is likely to happen. She'll either bolt down that tunnel and out the door - to try and 'help' or just to get away - or else...she'll disintegrate completely. Either way, it's best if she's kept unaware of the situation until after it's over.''

''I understand,'' Steve said reluctantly.

''Pal, we have to go now - and so do you," Oscar added. "We'd move you out before any of this has a chance to start but you and Jaime are still safest right where you are. See if you can pull Conrad aside and let him know what's happened. Decide between you whether he stays or goes.''

''Oscar - wait!'' Steve had turned - and Conrad was in the hallway, directly behind him.

''Jaime sent me to find you...and I heard you talking. You're going to need my help,'' Conrad stated firmly. ''_Both_of you. I'll stay.''

''Thank you,'' Steve said (and Oscar transmitted) at exactly the same time.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

''How do I _do _this, Doc?'' Steve lamented. ''Jaime trusts me; I swore I'd never lie to her! How do I sneak up behind her and -''

''You don't,'' Conrad said simply. ''I do. Where did you hide them?''

''My shaving kit.''

''Alright. Here's what I need you to do...'' the doctor explained.

Steve didn't like it, but he reminded himself that they were protecting Jaime from something that would otherwise prove far more damaging than an unexpected shot...and he thanked his lucky stars that at least he wasn't doing this on his own. Jaime was sitting on the love seat, flipping through a magazine - and her smile when she saw him sent a sharp pang of guilt coursing straight through Steve's heart. He headed into his sleeping quarters while Conrad seated himself in the rocking chair (across the room from the bookshelf and the kitchenette doorway).

''So you slept well, then?'' he asked, continuing their previous conversation. ''No nightmares?''

''Just a couple bad dreams; nothing serious,'' Jaime told him.

''What were they about?'' Conrad continued, watching out of the corner of his eye as Steve set a syringe between two of the books, within easy reach but not easily visible if Jaime should turn around.

''You know...I don't even remember. I just woke up knowing there'd been a bad dream. Twice...but went right back to sleep,'' she answered.

Steve sat down next to Jaime and softly caressed her cheek then pulled her closer, gazing into her eyes.

''Why don't I make a pot of coffee,'' Conrad suggested, ''and then we'll talk some more.'' He headed into the kitchenette, reaching over to grab the syringe on his way.

''You are _so _beautiful,'' Steve said softly, holding Jaime's gaze with his own - and keeping her attention focused away from Conrad. When he heard the coffeepot click on, he pulled her into a tender kiss. Jaime didn't notice Conrad standing behind her...and when he plunged the needle into her arm, she barely had a chance to react before slumping against Steve, out cold. ''I love you, Jaime,'' Steve whispered before sliding her limp body up and over his good shoulder and carrying her to her room.

Together, Conrad and Steve gently lowered Jaime onto her bed and covered her with the quilt. Then Steve kissed her forehead and the two men moved back into the 'living room' area. ''I'm not too proud of myself right now,'' Steve said very quietly.

''It had to be done,'' Conrad assured him. ''If this gets as bad as Oscar made it sound, we just saved her life. She'd either have run - and neither of us could've stopped her if she was in a blind panic - or dissolved emotionally to the point where we might not have gotten get her back. Either way, we'd have lost her forever.''

''She might never forgive me for this...and I might never forgive myself.''

''Jaime doesn't need to know you had anything to do with this - unless you tell her. I'm fine with taking the blame on this one.''

Steve shook his head. ''No - not another deception. When this is over, I'll tell her...but right now I'm not sure how.'' Steve's datacom vibrated again and he keyed it up. (There was no longer a need to take it down the hall first.) ''I'm here,'' he transmitted.

''Steve, it's Rudy. Oscar wanted you to know the Army is in place to assist the Air Force - and you're now on High Alert. Is Jaime...okay?''

''It's done, Rudy...she's out.''

''Good. I know how hard that was for you,'' Rudy told him, ''but it's for the best. The shot should last about six hours and hopefully things will be cleared by then but if not, be ready to give her another one. I have to go now but we'll try to keep you updated when we can.''

''Thanks, Rudy. And...stay safe.''

* * *

The conference room at OSI-Los Angeles had become a Situation Room/Command Center, with the eight men present exchanging last minute ideas in between taking phone calls from their respective agencies and teams and disseminating orders and information.

''Missile Defense systems have been fully activated,'' General Hammond reported. ''Abrams tanks are surrounding my Base and we've got the drones in the air to pinpoint the location of the source of an attack. MEWS Operations Center is fully staffed and prepared to assist. We're ready for them.''

Russ hung up his phone. ''MEWS reports interception of a long range missile that was headed for Edwards. Large amount of flashing but the cloud was safely dispersed before it reached the ground. So it's chemical.''

The conference room quickly became a maelstrom of activity, noise and hastily prepared strategies and orders as one report after another flooded in.

''Two missiles shot down within range of Edwards - and we have fire on the ground!''

''I need a report from the drones!''

''MEWS reports interception of a missile headed in _their _direction too!''

''We have a full-fledged attack!''

* * *

Down in the bunker, Steve had just returned to the easy chair after checking on Jaime when the first siren went off...and then another...and another. They were faint (through the reinforced concrete and lead) but audible - and he was suddenly _very _glad Jaime had been sedated.

''Missile defense,'' Steve told Conrad. His well-trained military ear able to isolate each warning siren and interpret it for the doctor. ''Fire,'' he added, ''...and...chemical alert.''


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

''I know most of the men up there,'' Steve said quietly. ''I've worked with a lot of them...''

''Then you know you can trust their capabilities,'' Conrad pointed out.

''This isn't my style, you know - sitting back while other people fight my battles.''

''It's not your battle, Steve. They're taking on the government now...the Military...which also means they're a whole lot bigger than just three men who escaped from an attic,'' Conrad told him. ''So you might as well let go of _that _guilt too.''

''Even with a bum arm, I could be manning the boards at MEWS or -''

''Or nothing. You're doing something very important right now. You're helping Jaime. She _needs _you. And you need her,'' Conrad said, trying to shift Steve's focus. ''You're good for each other; she softens you, you know.''

''You're probably right about that,'' Steve acknowledged. He gave a woe-filled glance toward Jaime's open door. ''At least...she _did_. Who knows how she'll feel about me...after this.''

''Steve, you need to look at this as something you did _for_ Jaime - not _to _her. And at the orders of all three of her doctors.'' The sirens continued to wail and then...something new. It started as a low rumble that they could sense more than feel - and quickly grew in intensity until the ground above them shook. ''What the hell was that?'' Conrad wondered. ''A bomb?''

''Tanks,'' Steve corrected. ''A lot of 'em. And they're on the move. That could be a good sign...or a really bad one.''

All the occupants of the bunker could do was wait.

* * *

''MEWS reports their drones have pinpointed a three-prong attack,'' Hammond told everyone who'd assembled in what was now more of a War Room. ''The tanks have moved out - and they're being fired on. It's not certain how large they are, but we have them outnumbered. I've ordered ground squads to cover the perimeter while the tanks are on the move. They're not getting in.''

''What about the fires?'' Oscar asked.

''The fires are closing in on the base but we've re-doubled efforts to hold them back. We need to devote most of our personnel to ending this siege, but I won't let my base burn if there's any way to prevent it.''

Oscar looked across the room and saw Russ staring vacantly, the phone in front on him lit...and unanswered. Oscar nudged Rudy and gave a slight nod in Russ's direction. ''Take him out of here, would you, Rudy?'' he requested. ''With all these lives at stake...I'd rather answer the extra line myself.''

* * *

Steve looked at his watch. It'd been over an hour since they'd put Jaime to bed and the sirens had begun to sound. Outside, the warnings still sounded but the rumbling of the tanks' movement had receded into the distance and so far they hadn't returned. Steve began to pace like a caged tiger. With no further updates from Oscar or Rudy and most sounds muffled by the very materials that were keeping them safe, the two men in the bunker could only imagine what was taking place above them.

''When was the last time you took a pain pill?'' Conrad asked. Steve had tried to hide it, but he'd winced as he sat down and settled back into the chair - and the doctor noticed.

''I don't know...when we got here, I guess.''

''So, more than three days ago? Because I can see that you're hurting.''

''Don't need one. I hate 'em, Doc!''

''Well, from what Rudy told me, they broke pretty much every rib that isn't alloy-reinforced. You need to stay on top of pain like that, before it overtakes you...which I'm thinking is the point you're about to reach. Where are they?'' Conrad demanded in a no-nonsense voice.

''Kitchen,'' Steve sighed. Deciding that maybe the doctor was right, he obediently swallowed the pill that Conrad brought him.

''Don't be so stoic that you can't let yourself ask for help,'' the doctor told him. ''And if that doesn't help the pain in the next 15 minutes, I'm giving you another one.''

''I'll be fine, Doc.''

''I'm here to help _both _of you - not just Jaime. And I can't do that if you're not honest with me. Tell me where your 'head is at', so to speak.''

''Do you ever let up?''

''Call it my hobby,'' Conrad shot back. ''And you're avoiding the question.''

''Isn't it obvious?'' Steve said bitterly. ''We've been under siege - because that's what it's been...a _siege_- for over a month now, ever since they took over the hospital! They're relentless - and from everything we're hearing, feeling and being told, they're also huge...and well-armed! And the worst part of all is that the love of my life is laying in there, in the state that she's in...and when she wakes up -''

A soft moan from Jaime's room silenced him and riveted his attention...just as the lights when out.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Without electricity, the windowless bunker was as dark and quiet as a tomb. Even the warning sirens were silent. ''Either the main tower just got hit...or we're on fire,'' Steve said grimly. ''The generators should kick in any second. I can still see - outlines, anyway. I'll check on Jaime.'' She was lying quietly now, her breath soft and regular. Steve watched her for several minutes and when he returned to the 'living room' the entire bunker was still dark. ''She's okay,'' he told Conrad.

''Probably just a reflex,'' Conrad agreed. ''I'll check her more closely when we get the lights back. How are your ribs?''

''Don't know; I can't see 'em.''

''Steve -'' Before the doctor could launch into a lecture, the lights finally flickered...and came on. ''I'll get you another pill. I want you in that chair with your feet up. And after this, you'll be taking them regularly - exactly the way they were prescribed for you to take - until your body has more time to heal.''

Steve knew Conrad was right...but he'd be darned if he would tell him so.

* * *

Nemesis was pleased. The Army's tanks had overtaken six of his jeeps - exactly as he'd known they would. The hired guns (who'd come too cheaply to be called true mercenaries) and the expendable flunkies he'd sent along with them had done their jobs well. The seventh jeep, the one he'd ordered to hold back from the others, would serve it's purpose now. He keyed up his two-way radio (from a hidden vantage point where he'd been watching all the fun) and radioed his order to the _eighth _jeep - the only one that truly mattered.

''Blow it up,'' he commanded.

* * *

The makeshift War Room roared with activity as six men talked, listened and issued orders all simultaneously. ''We've got six jeeps!'' the General called, his voice quieting the din. ''Seven casualties - all theirs,'' he reported. ''The Army has five in custody.''

''I'll send the van,'' Hansen announced.

The General nodded. ''Substantial fire in the North quadrant of the base - took out the main electrical tower - but the generators have kicked in and the fire crews are on it. HazMat is moving in to check for any potential contamination from the missile clouds. Looks like it's all over but the clean-up, Gentlemen.''

A cheer rang out through what would soon be a conference room again...interrupted when the General's phone rang again. ''There's been an explosion,'' he reported, ''about a mile further out from the base. Appears it may have been another jeep. Personnel on the way to check it out.''

* * *

''Why can't I go back in there?'' Russ demanded. ''I'm fine - and they need me!''

''I'm sure everything's under control,'' Rudy assured him. ''Look up at the ceiling for me, please.''

''Rudy, _what _is going on?''

''That's what we're trying to find out.'' Rudy flashed a small penlight and found Russ's pupil reactions normal. Reflexes were normal, as were his vital signs. He was fully oriented to time and place. Every test that Michael had run showed absolutely no abnormalities. Rudy was at a loss to explain what was happening to his very intelligent young patient.

* * *

''Feeling a little better now?'' Mark Conrad asked when Steve opened his eyes. The second pain pill had done its job well - and allowed (or forced) Steve to take a brief doze in the easy chair.

''Jaime! Is Jaime alright?''

''Relax; I've kept an eye on her. You weren't asleep that long. Felt good though...didn't it?''

''Yeah...I guess it did,'' Steve admitted.

Steve's datacom - left over on the table before the power went out - began to buzz. Conrad handed it to him. ''I'm thinking it's for you,'' he said.

''Oscar?'' Steve transmitted.

''Yes. Is Jaime still asleep?''

''Yeah.'' He looked at his watch. ''For a few more hours, probably. Why?''

''When she wakes up, Pal, you'll have some very, _very _good news for her. It appears that her 'Drill Man' is among the casualties.''

''What?''

''We believe Grant Kingsley is dead,'' Oscar explained.

''Appears? Believe? You mean you don't know, then?''

''We captured six of his jeeps - two from each direction. There was a seventh jeep set back from the others - and an explosion. He took too big of a risk, transporting such volatile explosives; killed by his own weaponry. The...ah...bodies are not intact. And they're burned. But we found a partially combusted wallet under the jeep, with an ID belonging to Grant Kingsley. It's over, Pal. It's finally over.''


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The 'War Room' was now drifting back to at least a semblance of a conference room. Six men remained but the frenetic activity had quieted to an occasional phone call and the exchange of information. Jack Hansen was especially engrossed in the phone call he'd just received. ''Is that so?'' he asked. ''Wonderful; thank you. Oh - and keep him down there anyhow and see if there's anything else he might care to tell us about.'' He hung up the phone and broke into a most un-Hansen-like grin. ''We got him,'' he announced. ''This...'Cobra'...it wasn't as large as Kingsley wanted us to believe. Most of the men in those jeeps were hired guns. And since hired guns have loyalty to no one...one of them started talking the minute he saw the inside of The Hole. He never got a name from the person who hired him - he said he called himself _Nemesis_- but he ID'ed a photo of Kingsley. And the last time he saw him, Kingsley was in a jeep that hung back from the others - supervising, I guess - right about where they found the burned out jeep...and the bodies.''

''So Jaime and Steve can go home and finally - truly - start to heal,'' Oscar said happily. He picked up his datacom. ''I'll let him know.''

* * *

''It really was him then,'' Steve concluded when Oscar relayed the news. ''Jaime'll feel so much better now.''

''The fires above ground are nearly out,'' Oscar transmitted. ''After that, HazMat will clear the area...and then you're out of there, Pal. Mostly likely tomorrow morning.''

''Wonderful.''

''I'm finally headed back to my own office now, for a meeting with Rudy and Michael, but I'll keep you updated.''

''Thank you, Oscar. Talk to ya soon.''

''I'll _see _you soon, Pal.''

Mark Conrad smiled. ''We've still got a couple of hours before Jaime starts to wake up. Why don't we talk?''

* * *

Oscar leaned back in the chair - _his _chair - and luxuriated in the sound of...absolutely nothing. He would have been jubilant but (as was quite the norm for Oscar) now that one crisis had been averted he would have to move straight on to the next one. What was happening to his right-hand man? The two doctors arrived with files in hand - and no smiles.

''Oscar, I'm at a loss here,'' Michael began. ''Russ's brain scan, x-rays, neurological work-up...all normal. The symptoms you've both described to me sound like a head injury, but I see no evidence of it here. A mild concussion _could _be the cause...but in that case the symptoms should've been almost immediate. My other thought is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder so I do think he should continue with Mark Conrad.''

''How was he once you took him out of the conference room, Rudy?'' Oscar asked.

''Very quiet; subdued. He seems to think we're making a big deal out of nothing. And after he has these...these _episodes_...he immediately returns to his normal self - a mini-Oscar, so to speak - chomping at the bit to get back to work.''

Oscar frowned. ''You said Kingsley was experimenting with mind control. Rudy, is there any possibility...?''

''I really don't think so. He wasn't experimenting with it - at least not in Austria. It was just an idea he brought up, nothing concrete. Seemed like just a passing thought.''

''I know I'm grasping at straws here,'' Oscar said slowly, ''but I know that Steve and Jaime have computer chips in their brains. Could someone - somehow - have implanted some sort of rogue chip...?''

''Would've shown up in the brain scan,'' Michael stated.

''Suggestions?'' Oscar asked.

''He knows that he's having these issues now,'' Rudy stated, ''so let's admit him to National and run another series of tests to compare to the first one, with a special eye toward any changes in the baseline results. And I'd like Conrad to continue with him too...as soon as he's out of the bunker.''

''Hopefully we can find a solution before this gets any worse,'' Oscar concluded. ''The last thing I want to do is suspend him from duty.''

* * *

''You know, Doc,'' Steve told Conrad, ''you really don't have to be _'on' _all the time. How about a game of cards? You a poker player?''

''How about if we talk instead,'' Conrad suggested doggedly.

''Scrabble?''

''Things will be different for you and Jaime now, once you're up in the free world again. You can finally start looking toward the future instead of having to look over your shoulder.''

''I'm just hoping we still _have _a future. But at least the news about her 'drill man' might temper what we did to her. Doc, it killed me to see her so haunted.''

Conrad nodded. ''Be aware that the issues Jaime's been dealing with - that you've _both _been dealing with - won't disappear overnight. There may still be intermittent nightmares, flashbacks...even depression or bouts of anger. It's all normal when you're coming out of a situation like the two of you faced. Help each other along, the best that you can.''

''If she'll still let me,'' Steve pointed out.

''I think she will. Jaime might be furious at first, but your love is strong. Steve, I'm not trying to be presumptuous or suggestive here, but is there a possibility you could stay with Jaime, at least for a few weeks? I think it would be helpful for both of you to have someone to lean on.''

''I guess that'll depend on Jaime, Doc. She has a spare bedroom...but when she wakes up, she may not want me anywhere near her.''

Soft rustlings from Jaime's room sent both men rushing to her side. It was time.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Jaime woke up very slowly. At first it seemed there was no awareness in her eyes. Steve tenderly caressed her cheek and spoke in a soft, soothing voice. ''Hi, Sweetheart...''

As she emerged into full consciousness, Jaime's eyes went from wary, frightened and confused...to blazingly angry. ''You...'' she said, glaring at Conrad. ''Why...? I was...doing fine!''

''There was a problem above ground, on the base,'' Steve began gently. ''We thought it was best if -''

''We?'' Tears of fury began streaming down her cheeks as the realization hit. ''_**We?**_''

''Rudy, Michael, Doctor Conrad...and me,'' Steve admitted.

''You...helped him? Oh God...you _did_! You kept my back turned so he could...''

''Jaime -''

''How could you let him do that, Steve? And how could _you _do that? I trusted you!''

_Trusted._The past tense broke Steve's heart. He turned to Doctor Conrad for help, sensing (correctly) that anything else he might say at this point would only make things worse.

''The situation up there was _serious_,'' Conrad tried to explain. ''The base came under attack and -''

Jaime was having _none_ of it! ''_And_ you thought poor little Jaime couldn't possibly be strong enough to handle it, right?'' she said bitterly. ''Well, thank you SO much for the faith you have in me!''

Steve tried to take her hand...but she shook him away. ''Sweetheart -''

''Don't call me that!''

''There were firebombs,'' Steve persisted. ''Chemical-filled missiles and -''

''And I guess all of your talk about how I'm strong, brave and smart enough to be an operative was only that - _talk!_ Because the first time something serious pops up, you help _him _drug me like an emotional cripple!''

''Jaime -''

''I don't wanna talk about this anymore!'' she cried. She sat up...and her head began to swim. Stubbornly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed to get up anyway. Steve and Conrad each gently took one shoulder and eased Jaime back onto her pillow.

''It was a very strong shot,'' Conrad told her. ''You shouldn't try to walk just yet.''

Jaime's eyes glared fire at both men. ''Do _not _put your hands on me like that again,'' she said through clenched teeth. She sat up more slowly this time, catching her head...then rose to her feet. ''I'm outta here,'' she announced.

''We can't leave yet,'' Steve began, ''but -''

''But nothing! I know I can't leave this...this _prison_...but if I have to go down to a cell to get away from both of you...well, you just damn well better let me go!''

* * *

Russ might have been quiet and subdued earlier...but now he was livid. ''Oscar!'' he seethed (without stopping to knock on the office door). ''They want to put me in the hospital and run tests all over again - the same tests I just finished two days ago! This is ridiculous! It's ludicrous! How many times do I have to get a clean bill of health before they leave me alone? I've been patient, I've been cooperative...but I won't do it!''

''Would you rather be suspended?'' Oscar asked quietly.

''_Excuse me?_''

''I'm worried about you; Michael and Rudy are, too. You know as well as we do that something isn't quite right. You need to let the doctors do what they feel necessary...or I'll have to suspend you from duty. Indefinitely.''

* * *

Steve moved to follow Jaime...but Conrad held him back. ''Let her go; just make sure she's not headed into the tunnel...and then give her some time to digest this. You and I can talk a bit and if she doesn't come back on her own, then you can check on her...or I will, if you'd rather.''

Steve silently poked his head around the corner of the hallways. Jaime was, indeed, heading into one of the rear cells and not toward the outside world. He focused in and watched her slump miserably into a corner, her knees drawn up to her chest and her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. It took every ounce of Steve's strength to not go to her, but after a few moments of hesitation he reluctantly returned to Doctor Conrad. He felt thoroughly rejected, dejected and alone...and in his heart, Steve was certain he deserved it.

''At least she's alive...and safe...'' he said miserably, sinking into the easy chair.

''That's right,'' Conrad confirmed. ''And remember that this was just her initial, knee-jerk reaction. Once she hears the rest of the story about what happened and then has a little time to let it sink in, she'll be alright.'' The normally confident doctor hoped that he sounded more sure of that statement than he really felt. He knew that Steve and Jaime could be drawn even closer through this whole shared experience...or it could tear them apart forever.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Steve paced back and forth, gathering his thoughts and emotions - and Conrad waited quietly, knowing his patient would break the silence when he was ready. ''Tell me what to do, Doc...please,'' Steve finally asked. ''I just don't know what to say to her now.''

''How long have you known Jaime now?'' Conrad asked. (He knew the answer, of course, but was leading Steve to some answers of his own.)

''Since she was five years old - so pretty much her whole life.''

''Almost as well as you know yourself, then,'' Conrad noted. ''Look into her eyes - and into your own heart. You'll know what to say.''

''I can't stand to think of Jaime down in that little cell, crying all alone,'' Steve told him.

''Then it's time to see what you can do to change that.''

Steve nodded. When he peered around the corner, he saw that Jaime's knees were no longer drawn up to her chest. She was still seated on the floor but leaning back against the wall now as though she, too, had been gathering strength. She didn't move - or even blink - when she heard him approach. Jaime was staring at the cell wall opposite from where she was sitting but Steve noted that her eyes weren't vacant; she was fully 'there'.

He sat down beside her (but not so close as to make her uncomfortable) and subconsciously mirrored her by stretching his own legs out in front of him with his head back against the wall, exactly as she was sitting. ''I know you said you needed to be alone, but -''

''But I was wrong,'' Jaime said in a near-whisper. She kept staring straight ahead, afraid that if she looked at him, she might not have the courage to finish what she needed to say. ''Steve, I just laid into you about wanting to be thought of as brave...and strong...and smart - but I guess I'd better start acting that way then, huh? I...I could at least hear you out, hear all of what you've got to say before flying off the handle. I'm so sorry.'' Finally, she turned her head to look at him.

''You were overwhelmed. And frightened...and angry. You have every right to feel that way. But please know that I would lay down my life before I'd ever purposely do anything to hurt you.''

''I know that.''

''I did deceive you...and I'm really sorry it had to happen that way,'' Steve told her.

''Why did it? Happen that way, I mean. What was so terrible that you and Conrad didn't think I could handle it?''

''It was Rudy and Michael too.''

''So the four of you had a conference and decided to knock me out?'' she snapped...then her voice softened again. ''I...I'm sorry. I'll listen now...and I promise not to bite your head off. At least...not 'til you're done.'' Jaime flashed Steve a tentative smile and he used the opening in her 'armor' to slide a little closer and take her hand. She didn't pull away.

''After we ID'ed that photo,'' Steve began, ''Oscar received information that the terrorists had gotten their hands on a whole lot of weapons. Not just guns and pyrotechnic squibs this time, either. Fire bombs...and missiles loaded with chemical weapons. And...they were planning to attack this base. He sent in extra units and put the base on lock down. And we all knew it had the potential to get really, _really _ugly. Your ear would've picked up pretty much all of it. So the doctors suggested it might be best if you weren't forced to deal with all that, right at a time when you've been doing so much better. I didn't want anything to happen to you - or for you to lose the progress you've worked so hard for - so I agreed.''

''So did it...get ugly?'' Jaime asked.

''At least six missiles intercepted - chemical missiles. The warning sirens were going wild...and then we lost power.''

''The lights went out?''

''Yeah. Parts of the base were on fire. The good news is they rounded up all six jeeps used in the attack. The fires are almost out now - and as soon as HazMat determines the area's not contaminated, we get to go home. Probably tomorrow morning.''

''Steve, that's wonderful!''

Steve leaned closer to Jaime and wrapped his arm around her body. She leaned into him. ''There's...one more thing,'' he continued. ''There was a seventh jeep - and the weapons it was carrying apparently self-destructed. Your 'Drill Man' was aboard. He's dead, Sweetheart; it's finally over.''

After nearly an hour spent in each other's arms, just quietly taking in everything that they'd been through and absorbing the fact that they were _safe_, Steve and Jaime returned to Doctor Conrad with an arm around each other's waists...just as Conrad knew they would.

* * *

Already nearly to the border, he stopped for the night, intending to make his first-thing-in-the-morning series of appointments before crossing into (and hunkering down in) Mexico. His goals had not changed and he was patient enough to wait for exactly the right time - because the pay-off would be very, very rich!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

''Our last night in the 'Edwards Hilton'!'' Jaime chirped. ''_And _we have a house guest! Doctor Conrad...do you play Monopoly?''

''Don't fall for it, Doc,'' Steve warned. ''The lady is a shark when it comes to that game.''

''Tell you what: you've got 'Rudy' and 'Michael'...so how about letting me be 'Mark'?'' He smiled. ''_Doc _is fine, too. Now let's set up that board.''

''Don't say I didn't warn you...'' Steve chuckled.

Mark was not quite as helpless (when it came to Monopoly tactics) as Steve was; it was a true and glorious battle. Steve took his next pain pill without argument or complaint and midway through watching Mark giving Jaime a run for her (Monopoly) money, Steve shot her an especially mischievous grin.

''You know, Sweetheart, Mark pointed something out to me today. When we do get out of here, you might want someone close by to...uh...look after you for awhile. And since you have that spare bedroom...''

''I could help look after you that way, too,'' Jaime told him. ''And Mark...you owe me $200 dollars.''

* * *

They had been forewarned...but still had no idea of what they'd be seeing. When the occupants of the bunker finally surfaced out into the fresh air and sunshine, it was like walking into a battleground, which - in essence - it had been, little more than 16 hours earlier. The fires had all been extinguished but the buildings (and the land itself) bore the scars of something nearly catastrophic. It was hard to believe there'd been no casualties among base personnel.

''Never wise to mess with the US Military,'' Steve noted.

''I'm really glad I slept through this,'' Jaime admitted quietly. ''Thank you.''

They both shook hands with General Hammond and then - finally - headed _home_.

* * *

Steve lit a fire in Jaime's fireplace and had just sunk down onto the plush, well-cushioned sofa when Jaime returned from the kitchen with a bottle of wine. ''To _home_,'' Jaime toasted.

''And to _partners_,'' Steve added. ''Now...and in the future.''

They kissed for a very long time, barely surfacing for air...and gazing deeply into each other's eyes, just luxuriating in being alone together. ''You _sure _you wanna bunk in the extra room?'' Jaime asked, giving voice to what was on both of their minds...and what had waited in the background ever since her memory had returned.

''Well...I'd rather be with you,'' Steve said (kissing her again). The kiss deepened as their bodies turned to make full contact and soon the wine was forgotten, as was the fireplace...and absolutely everything else except each other.

* * *

Getting out of bed the next morning felt like it would be breaking some sort of magical spell - so for several hours, Steve and Jaime...didn't. When they finally padded out into the rest of the house to see about breakfast (which by now could more accurately be called lunch), Jaime threw open the front door and motioned to the porch.

''Not a 'suit' in sight!'' she exulted. ''No more datacoms to have to tune out, 24 hours a day - and no more 'penguins' forcing me back inside when I want some fresh air! Steve, it's just _us _now! Finally!''

Steve wrapped a loving arm around her waist...and smiled contentedly. ''_Us _is all we need,'' he told her, ''and all I've ever wanted!''

**END** of Episode Five  
(Story continues in Episode Six.)


End file.
